


Don't You Dare Die on Me

by CanaryCry



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Comfort/Angst, Developing Relationship, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Hurt Wally West, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, POV Wally West, Post-Endgame, Prompt Fill, Protective Dick Grayson, Protectiveness, Rescue, Wally West is Alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 10:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15928871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanaryCry/pseuds/CanaryCry
Summary: Wally isn't cleared for field work after his return from the speedforce, but he won't let Dick go out without backup. It's just a straightforward recon mission. What could possibly go wrong?A lot, it turns out.





	Don't You Dare Die on Me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wally getting backed into a corner, hurt and unable to escape. How would he react if Dick tried to protect him? If Dick had gotten hurt would he blame himself?](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/416153) by thotwing (prompt-giver) and iatethepomegramate (me). 



> This was just meant to be a headcanony prompt fill, but I wrote a whole-ass fic instead.
> 
> Wally is back/not dead because of *mumblemumble* reasons.

The wound in his leg was deep. Too deep. Wally slumped against the wall. Every time he tried to tap into the speed force, the wound bled faster, pain lancing through his thigh with enough force to make him see stars. It would heal eventually, but  _eventually_ did not help when half a dozen heavily-armed and heavily-muscled guys were bearing down upon him.

He let himself slide to the floor, lightheaded from the effort it had taken to remain upright. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Black Canary hadn’t cleared him for active duty yet, and he didn’t even have a new hero name to replace the one he’d given to Bart.

But most of the Team had been on other missions, and he wasn’t about to let Nightwing go into the field without backup. God, he hoped Nightwing was in better shape than he was. This was supposed to be a simple recon mission. In and out. Automated defence systems Nightwing could take out in his sleep.

Their intel had been wrong.  _Badly_  wrong.

And now Wally was trapped in a corner, his rabbit-heart pushing blood out of his wound faster than his body could clot it.

One of the men had a scythe. A  _scythe._ It still glinted with Wally’s blood, wicked and hungry for more.

“We could take him,” said the shortest of the men. “He could have useful intel.”

“We’re not equipped to trap a speedster,” the scythe-wielder replied. “Besides, he’ll bleed out before we get him to base. Keep it clean. No witnesses.”

“What about the other guy?”

“Psh. The other six went after him. He’s dead.”

Wally didn’t want to believe that. Nightwing–Dick–was endlessly resourceful. He’d faced worse odds before. 

Besides, weren’t they owed some good fortune by now? They’d been through enough.

* * *

**Six Months Ago**

“Dick, we need to talk about that kiss.”

“Do we?” Dick still had a weird look on his face, like he fully expected to wake up any second. Wally couldn’t blame him.

“Uh, yeah, dude,” Wally told him. “It’s not every day your best friend plants one on you.”

“It’s not every day your best friend comes back from the dead,” Dick said, his voice oddly cool. Wally tried not to take it personally; there was tension in Dick’s shoulders that betrayed his discomfort. Embarrassment, more likely. He’d kissed Wally in front of the entire team.

“Speedforce.”

“Whatever.” Again, that wasn’t really in character for him. Dick had become more and more fact-oriented as he’d grown older, possibly a side-effect of leading the team while running a complex undercover operation… and being Kaldur’s only point of contact for a long time before Artemis joined him.

Wally sat on the couch in Dick’s Blüdhaven apartment. Dick had made a hasty escape after the debrief at the Watchtower, and Wally had given him a ten-minute head start before coming after him.

He’d hoped sitting down would encourage Dick to do the same, but he just kept standing there, his hands curling into fists and uncurling repeatedly. It wasn’t like him to have such a blatant tell. Wally could usually read his tells anyway, owing to how close they’d once been, but this was something else.

“I’m not angry,” Wally said. “I’m just surprised and I wanna know where that came from.” He could feel his hands shaking, but out of respect for the fact Dick clearly couldn’t hide his tells, he didn’t try to hide his, either.

“You really don’t know?” Dick said in a small voice. Wally’s heart stuttered.

“Let’s just say I don’t,” he said. His voice as small as Dick’s. Could this mean what he thought it meant?

“Wally…” Dick’s voice cracked, and he lowered his gaze to blink rapidly. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“How long?” Wally croaked.

“Seven years.” Dick let out one rueful laugh. “Maybe even longer.”

So, Wally had been dealing with his fair share of curveballs since he was unceremoniously dumped back into the physical world after spending months in the speedforce. But none of them had knocked the wind out of his gut like this one.

“I’m still fuzzy on my timelines, dude,” Wally said, and he couldn’t stop his voice from shaking. “When was what, exactly?”

“Not long before we saved Superboy,” Dick replied. He was still tense.

“I… me too, then. Huh.” Wally had never given it much thought, mainly because he hadn’t thought it’d amount to anything. He’d always been good at denial.

“You…” Dick let out a sharp breath. “Are you saying…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God.” Dick finally flung himself onto the couch, only to hide his face in his hands. “I’ve been sitting on this all this time for no reason. I thought you were  _straight_.”

Wally snorted. “Ditto.”

“This is a disaster,” Dick muttered.

“Guess we better do some crisis management,” Wally replied, poking Dick’s shoulder. “I… look. Everything’s a mess right now. I need time to get my head sorted out, but… I wouldn’t mind giving us a shot… I mean, if you want.”

“I want, Wally.” He sat up, his blue eyes overbright as if holding back tears. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“I’m here, babe. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

**Now**

“Shit, it’s Nightwing!”

Wally jerked awake, just as one of the guys looming over him took an escrima stick to the head. How long had he been out?

A streak of blue crossed his vision, and then another guy was down. Nightwing slowed, and even through the haze of Wally’s blood loss, he could plainly see the look of sheer fury etched onto his face. He was  _pissed_ , and all on Wally’s behalf. That was kind of flattering. And maybe a little hot.

Wally had definitely lost too much blood.

The four remaining men took on Nightwing at once. The motions made Wally lightheaded, but he couldn’t stop watching. Nightwing ducked, swerved, hit, blocked, kicked. The scythe caught his arm, flicking blood in an arc. Nightwing grabbed the scythe and slammed the handle into the man’s face, knocking him out cold.

The other three went down quickly. Nightwing stood there gasping for a moment, pressing a hand to his bleeding arm. Then he rushed to Wally’s side, pressing a cloth to his leg.

“Nightwing to…” He growled under his breath. “To  _anyone_. Original Kid Flash is down. Epic blood loss. Need immediate assistance at my coordinates.” Nightwing pressed the cloth harder to Wally’s leg, but Wally couldn’t feel very much anymore. “Hey. Dude. Don’t you dare die on me.”

Wally must’ve closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember doing that. He forced them open, but they were heavier than a food truck.

“I’m… trying.” It was all he could promise. God, he was tired.

“Wally, you promised.” Dick took in a sharp breath. “Stay with me. I still technically outrank you. I will make that an order.”

Wally laughed weakly. “Yes, sir.”

He tried to stay awake, tried to listen to Nightwing’s increasingly frantic rambling, but his injuries could not be denied. Soon enough, he was dragged out of the waking world once again.

* * *

Next he woke, he was in a nice hospital bed. The soft mechanical whirring told him that he was on the Watchtower. Dick wasn’t nearby. Where was…

Oh, no. He’d been hurt, too. He didn’t heal like Wally could.

Wally sat up, probing the spot on his thigh the wound had been. He found a bandage, and the telltale bumps of stitches. They’d dissolve soon enough. There was an IV hooked up to his arm, so he’d have to drag the damn thing with him to find Dick.

He should’ve fought harder. Dick probably already tired from fighting the rest of the guards, and then he had to save Wally’s sorry ass. Wally wasn’t even supposed to be on the mission. Maybe he should’ve listened to Dick’s concerns and stayed home.

Sometimes having super-speed was a curse. Too many thoughts at once.

The doors leading out to the corridor hissed open, and then in walked Dick, having replaced his Nightwing gear with a pair of sweats and sunglasses. His arm was bandaged to hell and back, held in place in a sling.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Sorry I wasn’t here. Had to debrief Bats. Been awake long?”

Wally shook his head. Dick came to sit beside him, wincing a little.

“How’s the leg?”

“Just waiting for the stitches to dissolve.” Wally wanted to gather Dick into a hug, but couldn’t bear to cause him any more pain. “How’s the arm?”

“Our wannabe Grim Reaper got me pretty good,” Dick said, seeming to relax now that he was talking about his own injuries. “I’ll be off active duty for a few weeks. Have to watch for infections, look after the bandages, blah blah blah. It’ll be fine. I’m fit, and Alfred will make sure I eat my vegetables.”

Wally had gotten Dick off patrol for weeks. God damn it. He should’ve been faster, smarter, or not even gone on the mission at all. Dick had been relying on him, and he just made the whole thing worse.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t do that,” Dick replied. “We weren’t meant to have any resistance at all. Besides, everyone gets hurt. If anyone should be apologising, it should be me… for not getting to you sooner.”

Wally didn’t feel any better. Dick always took responsibility for things he didn’t have to.

“Don’t give me that look,” Dick said sharply. “It’s not your fault you got hurt.”

“It’s not your fault either!” Wally hadn’t planned to yell, but it burst out of him like he was possessed.

“Okay,” Dick said primly. “Neither of us is at fault.”

“No, I…”

“Shh. The decision’s been made. You didn’t mess up, and neither did I.”

“Since when do you ever give up responsibility?”

“When it’s the best decision. This isn’t the first time. You know that.” Dick sighed, and the fight drained out of him. “Wally, I can’t argue about this anymore.” He swallowed visibly, and the fingers on his unbound hand gripped the edge of the bed. “I nearly lost you. Again. Please… can we just…”

Wally still hated himself a little bit for getting Dick hurt, but he couldn’t keep fighting, either. They were both exhausted and emotionally wrung out.

So Wally set all of it aside and put his hand on the small of Dick’s back. “Let’s get out of here. You can watch me eat my body weight in pasta and put on a bad movie we can laugh at.”

Dick managed a tiny smile, but one that was far more genuine. “I like the sound of that.”

They hadn’t really resolved anything, but sometimes it was better to take a step back and deal with it later. The fear of losing Wally again wasn’t leaving Dick’s eyes any time soon, and Wally wasn’t about to shake off the guilt of getting Dick hurt, but they could comfort each other tonight.

Sometimes that was more important.


End file.
